Born Again Slut
Oops! I got married. It’s an embarrasing mistake and I’ve complained about it every day since I let it happen. There wasn’t a proposal or a white dress; just the saddest Las Vegas courthouse wedding possible. Basically, it was everything I could ever hope for from a wedding, but the whole marriage thing isn’t how I wanted my story to go.
Almost four years ago when I started writing as the Blazing Shark I was single and happily embracing my sexuality. I was never on the lookout for “the one” because I never wanted to find marriage material or the future father of my perfectly named fantasy children. Regardless of my views, I was told by many women that I would never find a good guy and they suggested I stop being vulgar, stop showing so much cleavage and definitely quit fucking on the first date. But the kind of guy I was looking for wasn’t what they wanted. All I wanted was a cute and interesting guy into finger-blasting me after drinks and someone decent enough to text me after the fact so we could make plans to do it all over again (and more) at some point in the future.
I do like being in a relationship with my husband (I still shudder when typing the word) but I feel like this isn’t what I signed up for when I sucked and fucked him on the first date. This is my first real relationship and I’ve done a lot of things wrong. Things I knew better than to do but was so lost in the warm fuzzy feeling I kept going. The first year I shut myself off from the world: I stopped writing, changed my number, deleted nude photos, quit my job and moved cross country. This pattern has basically continued in some form the whole relationship. But then I would get a small taste of my old life via a random email from a flirty friend, a night out with a former fuck buddy or the rare and elusive drink with a strange and it would drive me crazy. I neglected to really think about how much of myself I was giving up and how the mistakes would add up to a negative number over time. I assumed I needed to change to make it work.
My resentment and unhappiness consumed me until a few months ago when I was ready to walk away. Giving up seemed like the easiest way out. Other than the obvious reasons, I’m not sure why I didn’t walk away. Most people thought I should or would.
It helped when I started to forgive the choices he made and we’ve made as a couple. The almost-leaving-you conversation resolved a lot of issues but skirted around one I had been dealing with the longest and the one I tried to avoid as long as I could. A few days ago it finally came up because I couldn’t take living this makebelieve good girl bullshit anymore.
“I love you, but I need to see/date/kiss/suck/fuck other people because you are not and will never be enough.”
I tried to say those words for months and months. You’re probably surprised that someone as sexual and open as myself would have trouble articulating my needs to a partner. It’s ridiculous how crippled I’ve become in this relationship. It sucks to sacrifice your own happiness and desires for someone else and the past months have been the most difficult of my life. Googling for therapists and “how to commit yourself to a psych ward” during recurring isolated crying sessions and anxiety attacks isn’t fun.
When we started hashing out my needs and desire for an open relationship he was confused at first but then understood completely. And just like that the tension between us vanished and I have the biggest sense of relief. I don’t expect an open relationship to resolve everything and make the relationship perfect, but I do expect it to allow me to find myself again. I’m very happy to feel the censorship lifted from my actions and writing and hope to resume here with as much honesty as before.